Her Portrait (Francis Thompson Poems)
Oh, but the heavenly grammar did I holdOf that high speech which angels' tongues turn gold!So should her deathless beauty ...
Oh, but the heavenly grammar did I holdOf that high speech which angels' tongues turn gold!So should her deathless beauty ...
ARLA. THE pious sire of ARLA rear'd her youth Strongly to feel the great Creator's power; In her pure bosom ...
THIRD EPISTLE. LOUISATOEMMA,WRITTEN THE DAY AFTER SHE HAD RECEIVED FROM HEREUGENIO'S EXCULPATING LETTER. APRIL 21st, ...
Do you remember once, in Paris of glad faces, The night we wandered off under the third moon's rays And, ...
THE years slip past, and the hour-glass flows, But its sands are more than the ocean-tide's;They ruin the rose ...
Is luaimnach mo chodal an nochd.Oh restless, to night, are my slumbers;Life yet I retain, but not gladness;My heart in ...
"MAID of the placid smile and heav'nly mien, With beaming eye, tho' tearful yet serene; Teach me, like thee, in ...
Deep desire, that pierces heart and spirit to the root,Finds reluctant voice in verse that yearns like soaring fire,Takes exultant ...
A fountain of our sweetest, quick to springIn fellowship abounding, here subsides:And never passage of a cloud on wingTo gladden ...
I Now it is autumn and the falling fruit and the long journey towards oblivion. The apples falling like great ...
The big teetotum twirls, And epochs wax and wane As chance subsides or swirls; But of the loss and gain ...
She was crying, after bumping her head, her nose on the wooden headboard crying loudly within the space below the ...
Nature's first green is gold, Her hardest hue to hold. Her early leaf's a flower; But only so an hour. ...
And the trees about me, Let them be dry and leafless; let the rocks Groan with continual surges; and behind ...
A Diamond on the Hand To Custom Common grown Subsides from its significance The Gem were best unknown -- Within ...
LARA. CANTO THE FIRST. I. The Serfs are glad through Lara's wide domain, And slavery half forgets her ...
WHILE deep you mourn beneath the cypress-shade The hand of Death, and your dear daughter laid In dust, whose absence ...
Deep desire, that pierces heart and spirit to the root, Finds reluctant voice in verse that yearns like soaring fire, ...
Forth from Calais, at dawn of night, when sunset summer on autumn shone, Fared the steamer alert and loud through ...
Do you remember once, in Paris of glad faces, The night we wandered off under the third moon's rays And, ...
After the kill, there is the feast. And toward the end, when the dancing subsides and the young have sneaked ...
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